


No doubt in my mind (where you belong)

by whenineternal



Series: No Doubt In My Mind (Where You Belong) [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, background homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 07:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6364516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenineternal/pseuds/whenineternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hansol is looking at him over the top of his own coffee cup and Yuta smiles brilliantly and slurps loudly from his overfull cup without lifting it from the table</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He can see Hansol’s face through the steam rising from his coffee cup. It’s a little blurry at times and the colour of his skin and hair is funny, though that might be just as much because of the shitty café lights, but mostly it has no effect other than to dampen his own face. Hansol is looking at him over the top of his own coffee cup and Yuta smiles brilliantly and slurps loudly from his overfull cup without lifting it from the table. 

Hansol furrows his eyebrows and then smiles a moment later and slurps just as loudly from his coffee. It’s childish, but they giggle quietly together at the disgruntled looks they get from the barista and that old couple sitting by the window.  
Hansol places his cup gently in front of him and stretches his hand across the table to tangle fingers with Yuta and in turn Yuta stretches his legs out under the table and hooks both feet around Hansol’s ankles. It’s quiet in the coffee shop and despite their earlier childish antics, it seems wrong to break it with words. Instead they smile at each other, stupidly in love. Hansol taps a beat on the top of Yuta’s hand and strokes his fingers around his wrist to the soft string music playing in the shop and it makes Yuta’s whole arm tingle pleasantly. 

He feels his cheeks heat up under Hansol’s unmoving gaze and his eyelids flutter and he breaths in and out shakily a couple times before hiding behind his coffee cup. Even fourteen months and sixteen days of being in a relationship Hansol can still pull Yuta completely off-balance with a simple touch or a loving look, and even if it feels slightly unsettling the warmth it spreads through his body is only comforting.   
Sometimes he envies Hansol for his composure. Most of the time even he has no idea what goes through the man’s mind, and he certainly never gets as flustered from something so small like a quiet look across a café table. 

Two tugs on his middle finger snaps Yuta out of his thoughts and when he looks up at Hansol again the other is laughing quietly at him, his sparkling eyes moving from Yuta’s own to what Yuta realises with a start, is his empty cup that he was just about to drink from. He flushes at his absentmindedness, but hides it by reaching for Hansol’s still half-full cup and taking a long sip from it instead, and then another until he is draining the last of it too and then he takes Hansol’s hand in his and drags him out of the café and onto the sidewalk. It was getting far too stuffy sitting inside.   
Yuta raises their joined hands over his head so Hansol’s arm rest over his shoulders and their fingers remain tangled as they walk at a leisurely pace down the sidewalk, talking about innocuous things like the new collection of manga Yuta bought the other day and the colour of Hansol’s photography tutor’s hair that was now a bright green and which was cuter, the Labrador puppy that young boy was walking or the Shi Tzu sitting on that woman’s lap. It’s comfortable and easy, so far from what it was only that morning when they could barely say a word to each other with their minds still stuck on the fight from the night before. It’s comforting though, to see that they can still be so in love even as anger and disagreements simmer under the surface.

When they reach the river and the street opens up around them, Hansol leads them down the stairs to their right and they walk along the river bank for another minute before Hansol stops and pushes Yuta in front of him. Yuta raises an eyebrow at him in question and then sighs loudly when he sees Hansol pulling his camera out of his bag and backing away from him a few paces.

“No sighing” he admonishes and lifts the camera in front of his face. “Look out at the river.” “Turn a little towards me.” “Tilt your head back.” Hansol orders him around and snaps picture after picture with the sun shining on both of them and leaving Yuta as little more than a silhouette, but the lighting is perfect, the background is empty and in Yuta’s opinion, Hansol really takes the best pictures.   
They continue walking, hands now clasped together between them and Hansol swings them lightly back and forth as they walk.

“Which one should I frame?” he wonders out loud and Yuta socks him gently in the shoulder, “none of them!” he protests and pouts when Hansol only laughs. He knows he’s going to walk into their home one day soon and find at least one of the pictures Hansol took in a frame on the wall. There is a small collage already, artfully tacked to the wall above the sofa, and Yuta feels a little embarrassed about it every time they have friends visiting. Hansol, however, keeps putting up more. And he has a knack for always finding them easy whenever Yuta takes them down and hides them away. 

They are getting closer to their apartment now, the stairs that will take them back up to street level is just ahead and from there it’s just a matter of walking one block and then take a left into a narrow alley, another left in between two brown buildings and up the metal stairs to the second level of the one on the right, and Hansol’s fingers tighten more and more around Yuta’s the closer they get. By the time they are walking through the front door however, they are no longer holding hands. Hansol walks straight to the kitchen nook and dumps his bag on the counter, opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water.

“You want one?” he asks, but Yuta only mumbles a negative and shuffles into the sleeping area.   
Their apartment is really only one big room, actually not that big, with a tiny bathroom attached to it and the only thing separating the bedroom from the rest of the apartment is a thick, off-white curtain. Hansol hears it clearly when Yuta slumps onto their bed as the springs creak loudly enough to cover his own sigh. He puts the water bottle down on the counter and leans on it with both hands, his head sinking low between his shoulders.   
All the joy from their day out has been sucked out of the both of them and Yuta’s sudden coldness weighs heavier on him now then it did before. 

A tear falls from the corner of his eye and Hansol hastily wipes it away. Without even seeing him, he knows Yuta is crying again, and when Yuta cries so will inevitably he as well. He swirls quickly on his feet in a fit of anger and his lower back bumps harshly against the counter when he falls back against it.   
If he could only find the words to explain himself in a way Yuta would believe. The stumbling, halting speech he had given last night was not the least convincing, but at least Yuta understood that he hadn’t meant to yell at him and that he was not angry at him, but rather himself. If only he could explain his reasons in a way Yuta would understand as well, he knows this would all be over.

With that in mind, he takes some time to think out exactly what he wants to say before walking to their bedroom. He slips past the curtain and then stops to look over Yuta who is lying on his back in the middle of their bed, his eyes closed and with tears falling steadily down his cheeks. He is completely quiet, but the sight of his tear-streaked cheeks breaks Hansol’s heart more than if he was sobbing out loud.  
He sits carefully at the side of the bed and lays a hand on Yuta’s knee and for several moments it seems as if Yuta is unaware of his presence, until suddenly he speaks.  
“Why won’t you tell your parents about us?” he asks and his voice is raspy and quiet. Hansol takes a deep breath and then starts off exactly how he has rehearsed it in his mind.

“Because I know how they’ll react. I haven’t even told them about me yet, and it is because I have grown up around their conservative, homophobic attitudes. I know what they think about people like us, relationships like ours, and I don’t want to expose you to that kind of disgust and dislike. “  
He stops talking when Yuta sits up in the bed and scoots backwards to lean against the metal headboard, but when Yuta opens his mouth to speak he holds a hand up between them, “please, let me finish.”

“It’s not for any kind of self-preservation or anything like that, that I don’t want to tell them. I know that no matter their opinion on homosexuality, and no matter how angry and disappointed they will be with me, I am still their son. You don’t have that protection.” He can see Yuta starting to understand by the look in his eyes and how his shoulders drop and even though he had several more lines prepared, he instead shuffles closer to Yuta on the bed and rests his hands on either side of Yuta’s hips. Their eyes meet and for once Hansol is the first to tear up as their fingers entwine and the rest of his speech is not something he prepared, but rather what being with Yuta makes him want to say.

“I love you and I am not ashamed of you. I only want you to be happy and safe and for me, that means keeping you away from my parents as well. And I am so sorry I yelled at you last night, I was frustrated with myself and I pushed that frustration onto you. I should not have done that.” Yuta shushes him with a finger against his lips and Hansol presses a kiss against it and when Yuta asks him how much of that he rehearsed, they both laugh quietly.  
Yuta sighs deeply when they quiet down and leans forward to rest his forehead against Hansol’s. He suddenly feels embarrassed at how he reacted last night, and regrets not letting Hansol take the time he needed to explain himself.   
Hansol tilts his head to reach Yuta’s lips, but Yuta pushes him away before they can meet and smiles a small, regretful smile at Hansol. “Will you give me a minute?” he asks, and no matter how much Hansol wants to stay and get lost in Yuta, he adheres to his wishes and leaves for the sofa in the corner of the living room area.

He stops to take in the picture collage on the wall in front of him, mostly pictures of Yuta, but some are of the both of them and some are the two of them and their friends. He takes one particular picture down off the wall and drops into the sofa with it in his hands.   
It’s of the two of them taken on a normal day out. Yuta is standing with his back against Hansol’s chest, a bag of roasted almonds in his hands and the Tower Bridge can just be seen in the background. 

He faintly remembers the day, it was four months after they met and they had taken the underground into Central London and then walked around for hours and hours. They had bought crêpes along The Queen’s Walk and gone on the Merry-Go-Round and then they had gone window shopping down the length of Oxford Street. Even then, so new to their relationship, being with Yuta had been the most comfortable he had ever felt. And now, ten months later, Hansol is sure that he never wants to live without Yuta, ever again.

He is shaken from his reverie by the sound of bare feet on the wooden floor and he looks up to see Yuta standing in the middle of the room and looking at him with complete love and fondness in his eyes.  
“Hey” he says and Hansol puts the picture aside and smiles back at him. “Hey” he says back and Yuta takes a few steps closer before stopping again. He has changed into pyjama pants and one of Hansol’s sweatshirts and he looks gorgeous in the low light of the setting sun shining through their windows. He breaths in deep behind a shaky smile and then pulls the sweatshirt over his head and walks quickly over to Hansol.   
Hansol catches him when Yuta falls into his lap and their lips meet in a desperate kiss. He strokes his palms up Yuta’s bare back and Yuta’s fingers tangle in his blonde hair and they moan softly into the kiss as their bodies push together and neither of them care that they don’t even make it off the sofa.

Later, when the sky is dark and they have cleaned up and fallen into bed, they lie on their sides facing each other, foreheads pressed gently together. They share soft kisses in between even softer whispers of love and when Yuta’s eyes close and Hansol feels himself close to sleep he presses one last kiss to Yuta’s lips and whispers against his mouth.  
“I hope one day you’ll understand Yuta, that I always think of you first.”


	2. Late Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's fascinating how Yuta works best in the hours around midnight.

The floor is covered in sticky notes when Hansol walks in their front door. Spreading out in an arch from where Yuta sits in front of the sofa, notes in pink and green and blue and yellow all filled with writing takes up the space where their carpet should be. He can see it rolled together and pushed against the kitchen counter, but what catches his attention is his boyfriend in the midst of it, adorably rumpled with messy hair and his reading glasses perched lopsided on his nose.  
Hansol steps carefully around the sticky notes until he can fall onto the sofa and tilt Yuta’s head up for a kiss. He had only meant to give him a small peck in greeting, he didn’t want to distract him from his work, but when Yuta groans in relief and melts into the kiss he is more than happy to indulge him, if only for a short while. Yuta still has two weeks until his assignment is due, but he likes taking his time and when he breaks out the sticky notes Hansol knows he is gathering his research to start writing. It usually means two weeks of less contact and more time spent out of their apartment on Hansol’s part so when Yuta stumbles to his feet and pulls Hansol across the floor to their bed, Hansol only drops his jacket to the floor and follows him enthusiastically.

 

<=>

 

Hansol likes watching Yuta work. When he gets lost in his research and his literature, this time a poem, Christina Rossetti’s Goblin Market he reads from the printed pages lying beside Yuta on the floor. The fact that Yuta works best sitting on the floor is also something Hansol finds incredibly cute.  
This time though, as he works on making them a simple dinner, it is the fact that Yuta is wearing his sweater, the really loose one that usually falls deep down Hansol’s chest and is now pushed sideways on Yuta’s body so the neck uncovers Yuta’s right shoulder. And that, in the warmth of their home Yuta has foregone putting his trousers back on and the image of him in only that loose sweater and briefs is one Hansol can not stop admiring.  
And Yuta wearing his clothes always leaves him feeling warm and content.

He likes that while there is a noticeable size difference between them it’s not too big to make sharing clothes difficult, because Hansol thinks there is something decidedly intimate about it. It is almost like they are still together if he is wearing one of Yuta’s shirt even if Yuta himself is halfway across campus or in another district of town entirely. And he likes to think Yuta feels the same.  
Actually, he knows Yuta feels the same. His boyfriend is the talkative of the two of them after all.

The sharp sting of hot oil splashing on his hand in tiny droplets brings him out of his thoughts and Hansol swirls the food in the pan around a couple more times before turning off the heat. He separates the food into two bowls and brings them both to where Yuta sits in front of the sofa. He places one bowl gently on the floor beside Yuta’s leg and curls up in one corner of the sofa where he can watch Yuta’s eyes flitting over the colourful array of research notes as he takes bites from his stir fried beef. It’s quiet in the room as they eat their dinner. Hansol is done long before Yuta has so much as eaten half of his bowl and so he slides to the floor beside his boyfriend, stretching out where he can find space with one leg behind Yuta’s back and the other curled under his own body, and takes the bowl from the floor and the chopsticks from Yuta’s fingers and proceeds to feed him.

Yuta laughs at the first bite and takes Hansol’s hand in his at the second, but Hansol does not let up and in the end Yuta can only sigh fondly and let the older man feed him the rest of his food. It’s not the first time they’ve been in this position, and while most of the time it acts as a sort of foreplay when they’re in a flirty mood, Yuta is, as Hansol well knows, incapable of feeding himself properly when he is focused on something like he is now. So Hansol feeds him every last morsel and when the bowl is empty he leans forward and lays a soft kiss on the corner of Yuta’s mouth. Yuta is already consumed back into his work so he only gives a small smile in return as Hansol gathers their dishes and rises from the floor.

 

<=>

 

It is already pretty late when Hansol saves his work and closes his laptop. The assignment of the week is fairytale landscape and he is quite happy with how his pictures has turned out.  
Yuta is still working, but more meticulously and directed than what he has been all day. Hansol takes a look at the clock on the oven display and sees that it is 23:14 PM and smiles a little, it’s fascinating how Yuta works with double the efficiency and drive in the hours around midnight than he does at any other time of the day. He stretches in his seat at the kitchen counter and shuffles quietly off the bar stool and across the wooden floor to the small en-suite. When he exits the bathroom he hesitates over whether or not he should bother Yuta with a goodnight kiss and in the end he slips quietly past the curtain and crawls across the bed to his side against the wall. He curls up under the duvet and buries his nose into Yuta’s pillow and falls asleep in minutes.

A couple hours later Hansol is brought out of his slumber by Yuta rearranging his arms and legs to fit himself in between them and when the younger boy sees he is awake he smiles and whines quietly that he never got a goodnight kiss. Hansol plays along and whines just as quietly that Yuta should come to bed earlier then, but he is cut off in the middle by Yuta’s hands framing his face and Yuta’s lips meeting his own in a lasting kiss, as soft and comfortable as Yuta’s body in his arms.


	3. Footprints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been an off-hand comment that Yuta didn’t even remember making the next day, but Hansol obviously liked it and, as it turned out, so did Yuta.

“You know, I wasn’t serious,” is the first thing Yuta says when he wakes up that morning. It’s a Sunday in the middle of April and the sun is already lighting up their modest studio and right in the middle of the floor, between their bed and the sofa, Hansol has laid out an old, white sheet. It is held down by heavy books on each corner and stretched flat across the floorboard. Hansol is sitting on his haunches beside it and looks up at Yuta with wide eyes, a small bucket of lilac paint opened in his hands. He looks from Yuta to the sheet to the paint and back to Yuta and gapes speechlessly at him.  
“But I liked the idea” he mumbles quietly and quite frankly, in that moment Yuta thinks he both looks and sounds like a kicked puppy and he can’t help but smile fondly at his gentle boyfriend.

“What colours do you have?” he asks and Hansol’s face lights up with a cute smile and he starts stacking all the different coloured paint he has bought. There is a cute baby blue and a dark orange reminiscent of a setting sun, and a neon pink and yellow, forest green and the lilac one he has already opened. Yuta tugs his tights up his calf and pulls his socks off one by one and throws them in the direction of the bathroom. Then he picks the orange and pours all of it into one of the flat bowls Hansol must have also bought the previous day. Yuta at least doesn’t recognise them. Hansol has risen to his feet and is doing the same with the lilac paint and with a look at each other they place one foot into their respective bowl of paint and steps onto the sheet. The paint feels slimy on the underside of his foot, but Yuta is already enjoying himself. He takes another step and reaches out for Hansol and the other man takes his hands as they balance on one foot.

“We should start in the middle, and then work our way outwards” Hansol says as they recoat their feet in paint and Yuta sets his down on the sheet so that the toes of their feet touch and the paint ends up overlapping and mixing together. Yuta thinks it’s an accurate representation of the two of them. They make about a dozen footsteps each and then they want different colours. Hansol throws an old towel at Yuta and keeps one for himself and they end up stumbling around as they dry their feet, leaning on each other to keep from overbalancing and getting paint on the floor. Their tenant wouldn’t be very happy if they did that. With dry feet they argue over who gets the baby blue, but Hansol caves rather quickly and takes the forest green instead. As a thank you Yuta takes a small dollop of the blue paint on his finger and smears it on Hansol’s cheek. He laughs loudly, but Hansol is quick to retaliate and Yuta soon finds himself with a matching green stripe on his nose. He goes cross eyed trying to see it and Hansol laughs that quiet laugh of his so Yuta swats at him before he takes his hand and steps back onto the sheet.

While they insist that neither of them are in any way sappy or romantic, they end up making a heart out of the blue and green footsteps and when they meet at the end they share a lengthy kiss. With their hands clasped together and almost loosing their balance three times they kiss several more times and then they hobble on one foot off the sheet and wipe their feet of paint again. The neon coloured footprints end up a jumbled mess on the edges of the sheet, but the two of them laugh louder than ever as they hop around with their fingers linked across the expanse of the sheet. When he wipes the yellow paint from his foot, Yuta sees the flash of a camera go off and when he looks across at Hansol the man is holding his camera loosely in one hand with the lens angled at Yuta’s raised foot. He isn’t even looking through the lens, but is rather taking the pictures haphazardly. 

They leave their painting to dry and take a shower to wash all the paint from their body. Hansol ended up with pink streaks in his hair and Yuta knows he has at least three neon yellow stripes on each cheek and probably some in his hair as well. Their clothes are miraculously spot free, but their hands are another matter and their calves are splotched in several different colours. They dump their clothes in the laundry basket anyway and step under the hot water together. Hansol steers Yuta under the spray first to soak and Yuta swings their hands between them and hums a random tune as he tilts his head from side to side and smiles up at Hansol. Hansol smiles back at him, that close lipped one that lies more in the eyes, the one he uses most often to tell Yuta he loves him. 

When Yuta’s hair is soaked and covering his eyes Hansol lifts his hands to his face and thumbs at his cheeks. The wet paint comes off easy and he rubs until all of it is gone. He runs his hands through Yuta’s hair a couple times and ends with sweeping it away from his forehead. Yuta tugs at his elbow and they switch places, Yuta’s hands immediately going up to Hansol’s hair and at the pink paint gluing chunks of it together. Getting all the paint out of Hansol’s hair takes a bit longer and when it is all gone they are pressed together from head to toe and kissing under the fall of hot water. They are suddenly back to the lazy Sunday mood they are normally in at the end of the week and their lips move slowly against each other, meeting and parting in short sweet kisses and coming together firmly so their tongues can move between them and against each other in a slow dance. 

When they turn off the water and get out of the shower they do it with the same lazy pace and as Yuta towels his hair with drooping eyes, Hansol pats on wet feet to their closet for a new outfit for the both of them. He never comes back however, so Yuta ties his towel around his waist and goes looking for him. The clothes he finds right outside the door and so he pulls on his boxers and pyjama pants and deliberately takes Hansol’s sweatshirt from the pile before he lets his gaze sweep around the room.   
Hansol is standing in only boxer shorts with the strap of his camera slung around his neck, taking pictures of their footprint painting. Yuta laughs quietly at him and brings the clothes with him to the kitchen island where he dumps them in one of the high chairs. He circles the island into the kitchen nook and opens the fridge. They had been painting for hours and Yuta hasn’t even had any breakfast so when his stomach growls at the prospect of food he pats it fondly and promises to fill it with yummy food as quick as he can. Hansol is busy photographing so when he asks whether he wants something to eat all he gets is an unintelligible mumble that he takes to mean yes. In his experience Hansol is always hungry anyway.

As he cuts the onions and cabbage and fries meat on a pan and puts rice in the rice cooker, that he almost forgets to turn on, he watches Hansol step carefully around the sheet and take pictures from every angle. He likes watching Hansol work, how concentrated he is on what he is photographing, how attentive he is to every detail. His assignment for this term is to make a portfolio with the theme being Childhood. He was nearly done, left with only one more picture when Yuta had jokingly suggested two days previously that they should finger paint or something and then Hansol could take pictures of the result. It had been an off-hand comment that Yuta didn’t even remember making the next day, but Hansol obviously liked it and, as it turned out, so did Yuta. He wonders if they have space on any of their walls to pin the sheet up, but highly doubts it. Maybe if they cut it down to just the heart it could fit behind their bed or something. Maybe they should stick to having Hansol’s pictures made into a canvas print.

“Your meat is burning” Hansol says, suddenly only inches away from him and Yuta moves his head distractedly from side to side before realising that yes, his meat is indeed burning. He hurries to move the pan off the stove and hisses as some of the cubed pork meat sticks to the bottom of the pan.  
“Oops” he says and pulls a grimace. Hansol comes around the counter, fully clothed now and picks a cabbage leaf from the cutting board. “Still eatable” he says and presses a kiss to Yuta’s temple as he reaches above him for plates and glasses. He takes the cutting board after and dumps the onions and cabbage over the meat and uses Yuta’s hand holding the spatula to mix it all together and then he walks away again to take some more pictures. Yuta robotically puts the pan back over the heat and pours the sauce over the meat and vegetables and flips it a little just until the cabbage starts to shrink together. The he puts it aside and places a helping of rice on each of their plates and splits the meat and vegetables into two portions and piles it on top. 

Hansol is back in a chair at the kitchen island before Yuta has even put the pan back on the stove, with chopsticks in one hand and the other pulling the chair on his left back for Yuta. Yuta smiles warmly and spins circles until he reaches the chair and can climb up on it. He then leans over and steals a kiss from Hansol before the other man can dig into his food and they smile at each other and Hansol bites his lip and looks extra cute and then Yuta has sauce all over his lips from the piece of meat Hansol swiped across them and they are kissing once again. He can’t simply leave Yuta with sticky lips after all.


	4. More me than I am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All I want is coffee, a new pair of shoes. And you, as happy as you can be"

The smell of black coffee and fresh pastry, something chocolate-y he thinks, hits him the moment the door opens. A second later he sees Yuta, face down as he carefully toes his shoes off while balancing at least three boxes in his hands.  
He feels warm, despite his mood, merely at the sight of his boyfriend. A month without him has been too long, his heart aches for him. It must show on his face because once Yuta notices him his face stops at half of a smile. His eyes widen and he walks quietly and quickly over to where Hansol is sitting on one of their bar stools. He places the cardboard boxes blindly on the counter, not taking his eyes off Hansol and then he steps up to stand between the man’s legs. He traces the dip in Hansol’s brow with his fingers, cups his cheeks and strokes his thumbs under Hansol’s eyes and then he pulls Hansol forward so the man can nestle into his neck and hide his face. 

Once the warmth of Yuta’s skin meets his cold cheeks, the tears Hansol has so valiantly held back all the way from Busan to here, falls unchecked from his eyes. He cries silently into Yuta’s shoulder as his boyfriend strokes circles into his back and holds him tightly against his own body. Hansol lifts one foot from the rest on the bar stool and wraps his leg around Yuta’s, his bare foot pushing between Yuta’s calves and he pulls him even closer. Hands clutching at clothing, grasping for any kind of support, Hansol does what he can only do with Yuta. He let’s go and opens himself to both the raw hurt of his parent’s rejection and the comfort of his boyfriend’s embrace.  
When Hansol starts talking, Yuta tightens his fingers in his boyfriend’s shirt and his eyes well up with tears he can’t ever stop from falling.  
“If all else perished, and he remained” Hansol whispers into Yuta’s neck, mostly to himself it seems as he quotes the book they both love. “I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”  
He tightens his hold on Yuta then, moves his legs and grabs Yuta by the hips to move him as well until the younger boy is seated on his lap, legs dangling freely high from the ground. Hansol holds tight around Yuta’s waist and Yuta wraps one arm around the man’s neck and continues to rub circles into his back. “I love you” Hansol whispers against his throat and Yuta kisses the same words into Hansol’s hair.

“I told my parents” Hansol says after a long stretch of silence. Yuta is surprised, but manages to hold any reaction at bay except for tightening his hold on Hansol for a moment. This is not what he was expecting, but it makes perfect sense. Hansol had been nervous about going back home, reluctant to leave a month ago when they stood in the airport. Yuta had put it down to him dreading the separation of a month and an ocean between them, so near yet so far once he went back to Osaka. He had been reluctant to part from Hansol for that reason, but Hansol must have planned this, had it hanging over him from the go and now it has finally broken him. Yuta remembers talking to Hansol the day before he was set to come back, but there was no sing of this desolate, lost man at that time. He must have told them right before he left, and knowing his boyfriend Yuta can easily imagine the hours on the plane Hansol must have spent in agony trying to hold back everything that he was feeling.   
Hansol lets out a single sob after what must have been a minute of them being silent. It is as if he is reacting to the situation in slow motion, all the words spoken hitting him in paces, all the things he feels bubbling in sudden spurts. The moments of silence in between are what really breaks Yuta’s heart. 

He can’t even begin to understand what Hansol is going through. He came out to his parents when he was fifteen and they took it like they had been expecting it, only waiting for him to tell them. It was so casual, just another day in their home and the next day his grandmother was nagging at him about making sure to get a nice boyfriend who would treat him right. At the time he hadn’t even thought about telling her.  
The burden Hansol has carried for so many years, of knowing his parents would be unable to accept a part of who he is, is one Yuta has never felt. The complete heartbreak Hansol is now going through from having been rejected by the two people who should love him through all, is one Yuta has never experienced. It makes it difficult to find the words to say.   
He should have known though, that there is nothing he needs to say. Apart from one thing.  
“Tell me you love me” Hansol pleads and with wet eyes and trembling lips Yuta kisses his face over and over and says those three words clearly in between each one. 

“What do you want to do now?” Yuta asks carefully a while later. They are still sitting on that bar stool by the kitchen, their hold on each other not quite as firm and Hansol is resting his head against Yuta’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.  
“I … I want” Hansol stutters, “I don’t know.” His voice is so small, his entire demeanour is void of that quiet strength he has always exuded, for as long as Yuta has known him. His arms are wrapped around Yuta’s waist, fingers clutching at the material of his sweater, and he feels so small in Yuta’s arms.   
“Well, I know what I want,” Yuta says, in an attempt to brighten the atmosphere. “I want coffee, and a new pair of shoes” he speaks slowly, enunciating every word carefully as he pulls Hansol’s head up to look at him. “And you, as happy as you can be.”  
Hansol smiles finally, even as it is dimmed compared to the ones Yuta is familiar with. 

“Then stay with me,” he says.

“I’ll never leave you.”

Hansol tilts his chin up and takes Yuta’s lips in a kiss that tells of the desperate sadness he feels, but also how his heart is slowly mending with the help of Yuta’s warm hands and never-ending affection.  
“Come to bed” Yuta whispers into the fifth, or sixth, kiss, it’s hard to keep track of anything when they do this. Hansol slides his palms up and down the outside of his boyfriend’s thighs and gently pushes him off his lap. They kiss while they walk across the floor and Hansol pulls Yuta’s sweater over his head before pushing the thick off-white curtain aside.   
Their bed is unmade, a clear imprint between the pillows and duvet and sheets of where Yuta had lain the night before, alone and clutching a pillow in Hansol’s stead. Hansol crawls onto it, lays on his side and buries his face in the comfort and familiarity of their bed that smells entirely of Yuta and their apple-scented fabric softener. He holds Yuta’s sweater close to his chest and sniffs it a couple times with his eyes locked on Yuta’s smiling ones. Yuta lays down next to him, so close their noses almost touch and as if cued they both go cross eyed looking down at their noses.  
“You’re cute” Yuta whispers and leans forward to press a chaste kiss on Hansol’s lips. He sees the shadow fall back over Hansol’s eyes as the moment fades and so he squirms closer, props a pillow up against the headboard and opens his arms to Hansol. The man smiles gently, barely a twitch of the mouth, and scoots right up against Yuta’s body and curls an arm around his waist. Yuta’s arm falls around his shoulders when he rests his head against the younger’s chest and for a long while they stay like that, almost falling asleep but not quite.

An involuntary shudder goes through Yuta’s body when Hansol’s hand slips inside his shirt. He runs his palm firmly across Yuta’s stomach and up his side to rest at his ribs, fingers fitting between the mattress and Yuta’s body. He tilts his head up and zeroes in on a spot right above Yuta’s collar bone, wide in view from the man’s low-necked t-shirt. He left a mark there their last night together, but it has long since faded. Hansol desperately wants to make a new one, so he does. A heavy sigh falls from Yuta’s lips at the sudden bite followed by strong suction and he tightens his hold around Hansol’s shoulders. His hands move quicker than his mind, tugging at Hansol’s shirt long before the stinging pleasure of Hansol sucking a mark into his skin ends.   
“You want this?” he asks, just to be sure, once Hansol has pulled his shirt over his head and lain back down. Hansol smiles, bigger this time, far brighter, and pulls at Yuta’s hips with both hands as he rolls onto his back. Yuta settles across his hips and frames Hansol’s head with his arms and they kiss as if they had never kissed before, gentle and explorative, and in a way it feels new. While nothing may have changed between the two of them, the circumstances surrounding their relationship certainly have. They can no longer pretend in their secret haven that everything is perfect. The harsh reality that is always outside their door has suddenly crept inside with it’s serpent hiss. But no matter, they still have each other. The rest of the world could go to hell for all they cared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was re-reading Emily Brönte's Wuthering Heights and thought that the first installment in this fic needed a conclusion, so there you go. Quote and title is taken from Brönte's novel.


	5. Blueberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That's London weather for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write something for Yuta's birthday and I just made it!(still one hour left where I am) so Happy Birthday to that sunshine

The cheap woven basket in his hands hits rhythmically against Hansol’s legs as he ascends the stair to their studio at a run. Yuta follows closely behind him, the thick picnic blanket held over his head, already wet throughout and not offering much shelter from the rain pouring down from above. The metal stairs are slippery with rain water and Hansol clings to the railing and shouts over his shoulder for Yuta to be careful. Luckily it is only one floor up and once at the top Hansol plasters his back to the wall in search of the meagre cover the little roof over their front door provides as he waits for Yuta to get the door open. Once it is unlocked the door swings open hard enough that it slams into the coat rack on the wall inside and then the two of them tumble through together, letting out equal shaky breaths of utter relief that they are out of the rain.

Only ten minutes ago they had been by the river, enjoying homemade sandwiches and store bought lemonade and soaking up the warm autumn sun. Now the rain is falling so heavily on the tin roof above them, it sounds more like hail than droplets of water.

“That’s London weather for you” Yuta says as he shakes his head hard, spraying water all over the floor and into Hansol’s face. Hansol grunts and bops Yuta on the head gently with his knuckles and the other laughs an insincere apology and starts stripping off his wet clothes. Hansol blinks at him for a moment before he shucks his low top shoes off and hurries into the bathroom. His clothes are completely soaked through and plastered coldly to his body and they make a loud slapping sound when he drops them on the tiled floor and then he is left shivering in only his boxers while he waits for the shower spray to reach an optimal temperature. Yuta sticks his head through the door, body as bare as his.

“I’m gonna make us some tea, don’t be in there too long okay?” he says as he grabs the towel from Hansol’s hands and presses a quick kiss to his shoulder. When he is gone Hansol pouts at the door for a second before a great shiver goes through his body and he hurries under the spray of warm water. He had hoped Yuta would join him.

The hot water is nonetheless a blessing to his chilled body and he ends up standing under the spray long enough for Yuta to come knocking and yelling at him not to use all the hot water.

When he steps out of the shower he finds a set of sweatpants and a large sweater, along with socks and clean underwear, waiting for him on the bathroom counter and his heart beats a little faster in gratitude for his boyfriend. He dries himself and dresses at a sluggish pace, the fresh air from being out all morning and the run back to their apartment has left him tired and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed with Yuta and watch a movie or just cuddle. Once he exits the fogged up bathroom however, the sight of their studio apartment leaves him frozen in his track. In the middle of the floor, on top of their fluffy, round carpet, Yuta has spread the throw from the sofa and scattered pillows around, and on the floor beside the little fort is a tray of steaming tea and the rest of their food. Chocolate chip cookies and the little blueberry pie they bought at a bakery earlier in the day.

Yuta is in the kitchen nook, looking through their food cupboard with pursed lips. His hair is ruffled, half wet and half dry and standing on end several places, and he is wearing a knitted sweater that is just a little too small and Hansol can’t help but lean against the counter and stare.

“You look cute” he says eventually and Yuta starts visibly before looking over his shoulder at Hansol. He doesn’t respond to the comment and Hansol pouts a little as he rounds the counter to come up beside him.

“We’re going to have to go to the store if we want to make any dinner today I’m afraid” Yuta says and looks towards the front door with a mock-angry sneer curling his lips, then he sighs happily when Hansol wraps an arm around his back and presses a kiss to his temple.

“Or we could order take-out” Hansol says and twines his fingers into Yuta’s and tugs as he walks backwards out of the kitchen nook.

“For now I think we’re set” he says and presses a little peck to Yuta’s lips before climbing carefully onto the pillows and blanket. Yuta hesitates as he watches him sit down and lifts a hand to scratch a little embarrassedly at the back of his head.

“I thought we should at least finish our picnic” he mumbles and crouches down to rearrange the mugs of tea and stuff a cookie in his mouth. When he looks up Hansol is smiling fondly at him and reaching out to him with an open hand and Yuta takes it without second thought and settles in next to Hansol on the make-shift picnic blanket. Suddenly remembering, he reaches behind the both of them for the fleece blanket he placed there and then spreads it over both their legs.

“Thank you” Hansol whispers and leans forward for the mugs of tea, handing one to Yuta and cradling the other in his palms. The rain continues to pelt against the roof and running over the windows so thickly it looks more like blank syrup being poured over it, but inside it is warm, the radiator spreading hot air through the little flat and it is perfectly cosy amongst the blankets and pillows. They sip from their tea in silence for a long while, munching on chocolate cookies and sharing warm, happy looks every other second.

Hansol watches the red tea swirl in his mug as he tips it slightly back and forth as the quiet stretches into comfortable silence, entirely too focused on it that he only barely registers Yuta rummaging for something under one of the pillows, and then he places the mug back on the tray and picks up the small, round blueberry pie instead, grabbing the single fork between slender fingers. He sits back and curls his legs close to his body with a happy smile on his face and digs the fork into the crust of the pie and breaks off a little piece. The first taste goes to him and he hums blissfully as the berries and custard and perfectly crispy crust settles on his tongue. Then he carves out another bite, thinking it would have been better if Yuta had gotten a spoon, and turns towards his boyfriend to feed him as well. He stops and lets out a small offended huff through his nose because Yuta isn’t ready to share in the delight that is this wonderfully baked blueberry pie, but is rather busying himself with a book in his lap and his mug of tea in one hand. He hears him though, and looks up at him briefly with a small smile and then goes back to reading. Hansol would very much like to tear the book out of the other’s hands and throw it across the room or something, but that’s not a thing that he would actually do other than in his own mind so he settles for pouting and sighing harshly through his nose.  If Yuta doesn’t think he looks cute then the delicious pie should be enough to sway him over to his side.

“I’m a lit student Hansol, you should be used to this by now” Yuta says with amusement colouring his voice and Hansol tilts his head as if to say, _duh_ , because he is used to it. Normally he enjoys watching Yuta read and the other has pointed him towards many a good book in the time they have known each other, but they are on a date right now. No matter that it is in their own apartment. Yuta indulges him in the end and closes his book, making a show of putting it down on the floor outside of their make-shift picnic blanket _slash_ pillow fort, and when Hansol sees the cover he physically gags, biting his lips together when Yuta laughs.

“I can’t believe you would choose Quatermain over me” he grumbles and Yuta laughs even louder and then leans forward to take the portion of blueberry pie dripping off the fork Hansol is holding.

“Believe me” he says with his mouth full and a finger rubbing at the side of his mouth, “I don’t like the book any more than you do.” He sucks the finger into his mouth then and licks away the tiny drop of juice that had spilled past his lips and smiles when he sees Hansol nodding satisfactorily at him while stuffing a big bite into his mouth.

“Don’t take it all” Yuta whines and scoots over until they are pressed side to side and takes the fork and the pie from Hansol’s hands. He makes a show of eating three bites in rapid succession and by now the pie is more than half eaten. Hansol whines wordlessly right back at him and Yuta smiles with his face deliberately scrunched up so his eyes are mere slits in his face and Hansol lets out one of those short giggles he sometimes makes.

“Cute” Yuta mumbles and guides the fork to Hansol’s mouth with half of what is left of the pie and then he eats the rest of it himself and reaches over Hansol to put the aluminium dish back on the tray. He pulls at Hansol’s legs when he straightens until the other unfolds them and lifts himself further down on the blanket so that when he lies down his head falls perfectly into one of the pillows Yuta has taken from their bed. Yuta rearranges the blanket over them and leans over Hansol and places a kiss to his mouth and another on his forehead and then he lies down on his side beside him.

“I love you” Yuta whispers as he brushes Hansol’s hair away from his forehead and tangles his fingers in the strands at the back of the elder’s head. He jerks forward as if to kiss him, but then he stops and looks into Hansol’s eyes for a long while with a small smile stretching his mouth.

“I love you” he says again, just as quiet, and then he leans in all the way and presses his mouth to Hansol’s soft, thick lips. Hansol lifts a hand up between them and glides his fingers gently over Yuta’s throat and along his jaw as they kiss, a chaste one that lasts for a long time with only lips and gentleness. Yuta swipes his tongue over Hansol’s lips once, but their mouths stay closed against each other.

“Love you too” Hansol breaths against his neck once they pull back before laying a kiss against the skin and another between his collarbones, burying his face into Yuta’s chest for a moment before surfacing. He pulls at Yuta’s waist and the other man scoots down until they are lying evenly with their heads on one pillow and their faces so close their foreheads touch. With a hand on each other’s waist they soak in the presence of their most important person until one after the other they fall asleep to the rhythmic pounding of rain on the outside surface and the feeling of warm, blueberry scented breath fanning over their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book mentioned is H. Rider Haggard's King Solomon's Mines and to be very honest, if I didn't have to read it for school I would have thrown the book across the room a long time ago.


End file.
